


Safe Distance

by spellwitch (wintergalaxy)



Series: Femslash February 2019 [1]
Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: A lot of the discussion is about Harvey tbh, Awkward Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Femslash February, Femslash February 2019, Minor Harvey Kinkle/Sabrina Spellman, My First Work in This Fandom, One Shot, Past Tense, Post 1x11, Realization of Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-25 03:21:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17717069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintergalaxy/pseuds/spellwitch
Summary: Prudence doesn't like crying people. But Sabrina is crying, and she likes Sabrina, whether she'll admit it or not. (Written for Femslash February Day 16: Blue)





	Safe Distance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SpaceGhostie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceGhostie/gifts).



> It's been several months since I saw the show, so apologies if details or even major points are off.
> 
> It corresponds to the word blue as in sadness, not literal blue. That’s probably playing a _bit_ too fast and loose with the prompt, but whatever.
> 
> This fic is written for one of my best friends who I discovered enjoyed this pairing. Love you! ❤️

Prudence _hated_ when people cried. It was such a weak, mortal display of emotion that made a mockery of otherwise respectable witches and warlocks. Because she couldn’t prevent it, she avoided it at all costs.

But this long-held pattern of behavior was quickly challenged the day after the solstice. She had gone to the school to speak with the still-working Father Blackwood (she refused to call him “father” in the biological sense after her last attempt to do so proved disastrous) when she saw it. Sabrina Spellman was sitting in the middle of the lobby at the foot of the statue of the Dark Lord’s avatar, crying noisily. She was curled in on herself, knees tucked to her chest and head between her knees. Her shrunken figure and the sheer size of the statue looming overhead combined to present a vulnerable and childlike figure, rather than a snarky teenage girl.

When Prudence took in the scene, she didn’t feel the typical crying-induced nausea. Instead, in its place was a strange mixture of mild annoyance and curiosity. This was Sabrina, now an official member of her group. She had to know what was happening, and manage it accordingly. 

Or so this was what she told herself to justify ignoring her precedent, and instead doing the opposite of what she normally would have by walking toward Sabrina. 

Prudence drew closer to the other girl, but stopped far enough away to be out of reach in case of any unexpected hugs or clutching. People tended to do that when they were upset, and she had to take precautions.

She was quiet for a moment, awkwardly debating what exactly to do.

“Half-breed,” she eventually said to announce her presence, but cautiously, slowly, and without any of the bite the words had once held.

Sabrina’s trembling form went still, but she didn’t look up. She sniffled loudly, clearly trying to hide her crying despite how obvious it was.

When she had gathered herself enough to speak, Sabrina mumbled into the crook of her arm, “Go away, Prudence. I’m too tired to do this.”

“Do what? You’re with us now, we’re not going to trade childish insults like before. Unless you’ve done something stupid again?”

Sabrina shook her head, but still refused to look up. The fact that she didn’t argue fierily with the jab—despite how Prudence had come to expect this of her nearly always—underscored that something was truly wrong with her.

Prudence felt a flash of irritation. She was remembering now why she avoided situations like this: she, as the calmer person, was the one expected to carry the emotional burden of the conversation, if not actively facilitate it. Sabrina’s unusually noncommittal demeanor at the moment meant Prudence picking up the verbal slack was the only way to resolve this beyond simply turning around and leaving like they both wanted her to do. She briefly considered doing the latter, but something kept her there, shifting uncomfortably in place.

“Then what happened?”

The prying seemed to break Sabrina’s resolve and another wave of sobs shook her body. 

Prudence fidgeted again. She was only getting more uncomfortable.

Sabrina’s voice shook when she eventually gave a non-answer of “I’m done with mortals, and boys, and _especially_ boy mortals.”

“Oh?” Prudence pretended to examine her fingernails interestedly, which she realized after the fact was a moot point anyway because Sabrina wasn’t looking at her. “What brought that on, miss I-will-resurrect-a-dead-man-for-a-mortal-boy’s-ungrateful-benefit?”

“Harvey was _not_ ungrateful,” Sabrina snapped automatically, her head finally jerking up—if only so she could glare daggers at Prudence. But she quickly paused and shook her head at herself, looking contrite. Another mortal action that Prudence somehow didn’t loathe when it was Sabrina doing it. “I don’t know why I said that. He was, actually. Ungrateful. Even if I can’t blame him at all.”

So she would defend the mortal but not herself. That was concerning.

Prudence was struck by a realization then. One that she didn’t want to admit to herself, but was undeniable. She looked beautiful even when she cried.

“He threw it in your face,” Prudence agreed. She finally saw a useful angle here. Just a few more carefully-placed encouragements and Sabrina might finally drop this continued idiotic devotion to the mortal world and its horrible people. Then she’d be a true Church of Night member, beyond a technicality wrought by the mandatory book signing. Full of true convictions, not just magically-binding promises.

But she still wasn’t quite ready.

“That’s not—he didn’t—” Sabrina was spluttering. She bit her lip, struggling for the words for a moment. In the silence, she knit her fingers together, before inhaling deeply and speaking with a much stronger, self-assured tone. “He was angry, but I can’t blame him for that. I did a shitty thing, and I was warned it was a bad idea and did it anyway. That’s on me, and I get that. He has every right to be mad about that I guess.” She shook her head. “That isn’t the reason I’m upset.”

“Then what is?”

Sabrina took a deep, shuddering breath and shut her eyes. Prudence suspected she was considering whether she was the best person in which to confide. Prudence couldn’t help but agree, and found herself quietly hoping Sabrina wouldn’t unload everything on her. Prudence half regretted approaching her, but she was still curious enough to want to know something, hence the “go on” gesture she motioned at Sabrina instead.

“It’s still about Harvey...” she began.

Her watery, red-rimmed eyes were glazed and fixated on some spot on the floor, so she didn’t see the eye roll Prudence awarded this preface. “I thought you two were done weeks ago.”

“We were! That’s not the point.” 

Sabrina waved the interjection off and continued, “I gave Harvey some presents for Chri—the Solstice. Eggnog and colored pencils.”

Ah. Prudence could already see where this was going, but she let her continue—partly for Sabrina’s own catharsis, and partly to keep Prudence from having to comfort her right away. She even overlooked the alarming near-admission that Sabrina thought of that holy day as the False God’s.

“The magic eggnog is a patented Spellman family recipe, though still kinda generic holiday stuff that didn’t really matter, so I can ignore that. But the colored pencils were _special_. He sketches a lot, you know. Anyway, they were my Aunt Hilda’s. Enchanted to never wear down. I thought he’d love them...but he came back yesterday and returned them. Said it was because of the magic. He _‘doesn’t trust it’.”_ Her eyes welled with tears again. “He doesn’t trust _me_.”

“So you finally understand. We can never be the same as them.”

Her voice shrank to a desperate whine. “But I wanted it to work! I believed it could work! I wanted to be together and show everyone—including you, no offense—”

“As if _you_ could offend me.”

“—that they were wrong. Instead exactly what everyone said would happen, happened.” 

Prudence lowered herself down to site next to Sabrina, careful to maintain a safe distance between them. “You have to learn, Spellman. You can’t let any man affect you like this. Much less a mortal, witch-hating, unsympathetic _boy_ whose ancestors murdered ours.”

“He doesn’t hate us,” said Sabrina, still defensive as ever. Prudence allowed herself another ever-so-slight eye roll at the girl’s mulish stubbornness. Sabrina noticed this one, and leaned forward towards her in response, eyes imploring her to understand. “He just doesn’t understand.”

“And what breeds all hatred in the world?” Prudence asked her smoothly, raising her eyebrows.

She could see in Sabrina’s expression that she knew the answer, but refused to say it, so Prudence continued for her, leaning forward in kind. They were inches apart. “Fear of what isn’t known, _what isn’t understood_. It’s no different than it was centuries ago, half-breed. It’s why we have to keep the magical world a secret.”

Sabrina seemed to notice their closeness too, and Prudence could swear that her gaze briefly flickered down her face before shooting back up. A dangerous thought passed through Prudence’s head: perhaps Sabrina was considering her in the way Prudence would admit she had definitely considered Sabrina over and over.

But then: “I loved him,” Sabrina said, choking on the charged word. Prudence’s hopes fell. “I still love him. We were waiting for each other. We were probably even going to get married someday.”

Prudence sighed. “You’re still in such a mortal puritan mindset, thinking of sex and love as synonymous. In _this_ society, we reserve love for family and friends. Sex just feels good. It’s mutually beneficial, nothing more than that. Usually.” She tilted her head, considering testing her potential discovery further—subtly. “I thought Nick explained this to you already? He has his scaly male sights set on you, after all…”

Sabrina looked uncomfortable at the mention of Nick’s attentions, but brushed past it. “He did. And I understand, I think. It’s just that I wasn’t raised that way. It’s hard to get used to.” She frowned. “Wait, didn’t you sleep with him? Why’d you call him scaly then?”

“Because he’s a snake. A charismatic snake, but still a snake,” Prudence said, shrugging. “Like I told you, sex doesn’t mean anything. I can think he’s an irritating person and still have sex with him. We all do things like that here. Even simple touches don’t matter that way.”

There was a moment of silence of simply staring at each other before Prudence dared to try one last thing. It was a low move, considering Sabrina was essentially grieving the loss of an entire life, not just a boy, but Prudence wasn’t exactly known for being considerate. By being here in the first place for Sabrina, she was making an effort beyond usual, but now that there were some signs, she _had to know_ , damn the consequences.

So she did it anyway.

She reached out and let her hand tentatively cup one side of Sabrina’s face. Sabrina’s breath hitched, but Prudence managed to keep a neutral expression despite this thrillingly receptive reaction that all but confirmed her suspicions. “See? It doesn’t mean anything.”

“It does to me,” Sabrina said, her gaze almost enthralled.

Though it killed her to do so, Prudence lowered her hand. She couldn’t bear to push any further. Anger, she could deal with. Hate kisses and hate sex were her specialty, and she wouldn’t exactly complain about happy ones, either. But the other person being sad took all the passion away. If she had a chance here, which she now believes she did, it would not start with tears.

In the unbearable silence, Prudence felt compelled to speak again, this time gentler than she probably ever had, to anyone. “Don’t worry. Sometimes things don’t work out the way you meant them to, but they work out.”

It was a cliché, but it applied well to Prudence: her sisters, her discovery of her father, even Sabrina’s arrival in her life. So she still held the idea close as a reminder.

The right words were coming easier, but she didn’t know whether it was because she was improving at the whole comforting thing so fast, or that it was just because it was Sabrina she was talking to. Probably the latter. 

“Listen,” Prudence continued. “You weren’t meant for that life, he showed you that himself. Why not embrace your other side?”

Sabrina twirled a small strand of hair around her pinky, looking away shyly. There was a small, bittersweet smile on her face. “That’s why I’m here, actually. I came to speak with Father Blackwood about joining the Academy full-time. But as soon as I got here, I started crying again and couldn’t go to his office like that. I didn’t know if I wanted to go through with it. Harvey was the last one I held onto from my old life, but even that’s gone now. It took me until now to accept that. You helped me. Thanks, Prudence. Really.”

Prudence could feel what was about to happen before Sabrina even moved. She didn’t have enough time to retreat, and as Sabrina threw her arms around her and squeezed tight, she cursed herself for immediately ignoring her ‘safe distance’ rule.

But as Prudence was coming to quickly understand, she didn’t hate it coming from her. If anything, it was endearing in a sickening way. Somehow, inexplicably, this girl had grown on her, and more.

She found herself returning the hug as the sound of a door creaking open on its hinges echoed through the large room. Father Blackwood emerging from his study because of the noise, no doubt. Prudence knew she should school her expression into a non-expression before he saw her, but the jittery feeling buzzing through her didn’t seem to lend itself to complying.

Was this what romantic love felt like?

**Author's Note:**

> So I know it’s short and not entirely resolved, but Spellnight’s relationship is a weird thing to navigate in the context of crying. That’s the only reason I didn’t add in a kiss, which was originally intended. I might write more drabbles for this pairing, so that’s not out of the cards of course.
> 
> Also, to clarify, I don’t dislike Harvey at all, or Nick for that matter, but I was evaluating perspective here more than my own opinions.
> 
> Anyway, kudos and comments are always appreciated! 
> 
> Find me on tumblr @hopewolves


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